The Autumnal Equinox Cookout
by Literupture
Summary: The annual barbecue in the Last City is great for ushering in the new harvest. Vallory sees it as an opportunity to flirt with the Drifter.


The sun hung in the middle of the sky, cradled by hazy clouds. Summer was fading; no longer did noon bring a sweltering heat, and evenings cooled the metal surface of the building known as the Last City's Tower. Shades of orange began to show themselves on foliage, food, and even clothing.

For Vallory, the food was the best part of this time of the year. She could enjoy spicier dishes and other foods at a higher temperature. She didn't have to break a sweat while cooking, and she didn't feel like her skin would turn to a crisp when she manned the grills.

With the turn of the season came the annual Autumnal Equinox Cookout, an event held at the Tower for citizens and Guardians to enjoy fellowship and the plentiful harvest. Tower staff and Guardians volunteered their time to prep and cook food and drink, hand out flyers, and host activities such as raffles and workshops. There was even a dance-off, but since Vallory wasn't too keen on dancing, her main focus was the cuisine.

This year, she'd spent the early hours of the day helping with food prep. She had cut vegetables and marinated meat and set them aside to be grilled. She'd asked about grill duty, but an event organizer told her someone else had already reserved that position. She was a little skeptical, but shook the worry from her mind-it didn't take a mastermind to grill meats.

The event was set to start at five, with entry available at four. At half an hour till five Val hands her reservation ticket to the door committee, then dumps a handful of glimmer into the donation box, enough to cover her meal three times over.

Her eyes scanned the wide outdoor space of the Bazaar. To her left was a long table displaying door prizes, such as a pumpkin-shaped Ghost shell, an overflowing cornucopia, and other various knickknacks. There were pop-up stalls near the prize table with people offering trial crafting classes such as wood-carving, knitting, and painting. The space where Ikora Rey was normally found was cleared to accommodate a wooden dance floor and DJ set up. Vallory wondered if Ikora would participate in the dance competition; that would be a rare sight to behold, and Val bet that the Warlock Vanguard would put everyone to shame with her moves.

Amidst the chatter she heard a faint sizzling sound, paired with the biting smell of charcoal. She turned her eyes to the sky to see a pillar of smoke rising from the garden terrace.

She'd sacrifice dancing and crafting to sate her appetite any day.

She weaved through small groups of people talking and eating, past a craft table, and the mini dance floor set up near the center of the bazaar. When she stepped onto the terrace, she saw a bald Awoken Titan standing before an enormous metal grill. He wore an apron draped over his silver and red armor.

Well, she certainly didn't expect the Commander of the Vanguard to be the grill master.

"Glad to see a familiar face in charge of the grilling," Vallory smiled at Zavala. "Nice apron, by the way."

Zavala turned towards Val and gave her a nod, then looked down at his apron. Val guessed he had nearly forgotten that he was wearing one. The apron was zebra print and had the words "Raise the Steaks" in cyan, rounded lettering. Tacky, Val thought, and definitely something that the serious Titan Vanguard would be hesitant to wear.

"It was... a gift." There was a hint of sadness in his voice; Zavala averted his gaze and poked at one of the steaks with a pair of tongs. It sizzled deliciously, and Val felt her mouth water. "There are plates and utensils over on the table there, with some of the finished meats. Take as much as you want."

Val bumped a fist to his bicep. "Thanks."

She grabbed two sets of silverware and plates at the end of the buffet line. The line was long but moved fast; people were eager to eat, and Val couldn't help but smile at how food brought people together.

She loaded up her two plates with slices of brisket, sausage links, cuts of prime rib, and some potato salad. Each item on the plates was something she helped prep, and it looked like Zavala cooked the meats well. Exiting the line, she spotted a wide cooler.

She swore under her breath and briefly wished she was an Eliksni; those four arms would've been useful for her predicament.

Like a shining beacon in the sea of bodies was a singular, empty table not far from the drink cooler. Val breathed a sigh of relief, placing the heavy plates on the table. She bent and opened the cooler, and was met with a wave of cool air. Glass bottles and aluminum cans of varying colors and labels poked from the bed of ice. She fished out two dark bottles of beer, tucked them in the crook of her arm, and let the lid of the chest fall shut.

She retrieved the plates and weaved back the way she came, passing a few more empty spots. She only had one destination in mind, and it wasn't anywhere out in the open.

Once she passed the closed ramen shop that was being used for extra seating, Val entered the dimly lit hallway. She ducked underneath the gate, balancing the plates and beverages with ease. When she stood, she saw the familiar figure of the man known as Drifter, hunched slightly over his workbench.

"Hey, hot stuff."

The Drifter turned toward Val and moved away from his work. "Well, if it ain't my favorite Guardian," he drawled. His eyes flicked toward the plates of food that Val held, but he looked back to meet her eyes. "Wasn't expecting any visitors, what with the party goin' on outside. What brings you here?"

Val offered a plate to him. "Figured I'd come bug you."

A grin spread across his face as he took the plate from her. "That's why you're my favorite."

"Is it, now?" She sassed, but handed him a beer and set of utensils. She was certain that she wasn't the only Guardian he'd used that line on. "I'm your favorite because I feed you, or because I like to bug you?"

"Both," Drifter replied. "Just a few of the reasons." He set the beer down on the table beside him and gripped the fork. Val placed her own beer on the felled vending machine opposite from him.

"Looks tasty," he said, eyeing his meal.

"I get that a lot." Val shot him a flirty smile.

"Bet you do," Drifter chuckled. "And rightfully so." He gave her a once-over, but was quick to return his focus on the food. She couldn't blame him; in fact, his love of food was one of the reasons why she enjoyed his company. He stabbed his fork into a thick slice of prime rib and bit into it.

"Hope it tastes as good as it looks. I didn't do any grilling, but I seasoned all the meats."

The Drifter's eyes closed as he chewed. "Mmm, that's real good." He finished the slice, and then moved onto the brisket. He reacted similarly, chewing slowly to savor the taste of each different entree before digging into his meal without any reservations. "You sure know how to handle your meats."

"Oh, I definitely do," Val winked at him before shoving a cut of meat into her mouth. She was thankful that grill duty was in good hands; each bite was juicy and tender, nearly melting in her mouth.

"Think you could show me, sometime?" Drifter said in between bites, returning her wink.

"I'd love to."

Talking drew to a minimum as both Val and Drifter scarfed down their food. Val set down her plate and reached for her beer. She glanced at him, and then angled the top of the bottle against the edge of the vending machine. She brought her hand down against the bottle, and the cap came off with a resounding pop. She took a hefty swig and leaned against the machine, watching him.

His expression was mild amusement as he set down his own plate and picked up the beer. He thumbed his finger over the paper label: a cartoon drawing of a monstrous skull and crossbones, but in place of the crossed bones were two crossed rockets.

"Ahamkhara Ale, eh?" Drifter turned the bottle over in his hands. "Used to serve a similar drink back at my old bar. You've got good taste."

Val was about to say something regarding herself, but stopped when she noticed Drifter flipping the bottle cap in the air with his fingers. Her lips parted and she blinked in awe-when did he remove the cap?

He smirked as he deftly passed the cap over his knuckles in a cascading motion, from his index to his pinky finger, then back again toward his index finger. He moved it with such ease that any Guardian could've guessed it was one of his jade coins.

"You're pretty good with your fingers," Val managed, her eyes fixed on his hand.

"Been around a long time," Drifter replied. "Had a lot of time to get experienced with them." His blue eyes met her yellow ones as he opened his palm in a wave, the cap nowhere to be seen. "Could give you a private session. Know a few tricks that would make you shiver."

The way he drawled out the last phrase did indeed make her squirm; Val tried to hide it by shifting her weight and taking another swig of her beer. She was sure he'd seen it, and part of her wanted him to notice, but she was the tiniest bit annoyed with herself. Flirting came naturally to her, but she had never met anyone who had such a way with words the way Drifter did. She was drawn to him, but he was pulling her into a dizzying dance; a game Val never considered that she might walk away from as the one who got played.

Just as Val took a step toward Drifter, the walls and floor of the room began to vibrate. Deep, bassy music came the direction of the bazaar, but then cut out suddenly. They must have been doing a sound test for the dance party.

She had no interest in dancing, though, so she returned her focus to the man before her. "Where do I sign up for these private sessions of yours?"

Drifter held her gaze with a mischievous smile that reached the corners of his eyes. Val felt that hint of doubt again, like she was playing right into his skillful hands.

"Drifter!" A high-pitched voice called from beyond the gate, and moments later a girl with light brown hair came sliding through the gap. "What are you-oh," the girl said as she stood, sensing that Drifter wasn't alone.

"Cock-blocked," Val mumbled. Drifter stifled a laugh.

"What?" The girl blurted, and when her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the room, her face lit up in recognition. "Val, oh my God! What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Karyna," Val nodded at her. "I should be asking you that."

Karyna frowned. "Well, I needed a dance partner, and I was dared to ask The Drifter to come out onto the dance floor," she explained, glancing at him. "But since you're here, I'll take you instead!"

She crossed the room and tugged at Val's arm. "C'mon, I wanna dance! Err, you're welcome to tag along too, Drifter." She smiled sheepishly at him, not meeting his eyes. "Let's goooo," she pleaded, pulling her friend's arm with more force.

Val sighed. "You know I can't dance."

"Can't dance, or won't dance?"

"Yes."

Karyna groaned. "I'm not leaving here empty-handed."

Drifter crossed his arms, but smiled warmly at the two women. "Ya'll go on ahead. Too busy to dance."

"You heard the man," Karyna said with another tug.

Val rolled her eyes. She had no desire to dance, but she didn't feel like getting her arm pulled out of its socket, either. She knew her friend wasn't going to leave the two of them alone, so she gave up the fight and let her friend pull her toward the gate.

When Karyna ducked under the gate, Val looked back at The Drifter apologetically.

He winked at her. "Thanks for the grub. I'll be seein' you."

"Rain check on that private session," Val replied, and then ducked out of the hallway.


End file.
